The vibration that tore through the Silent Spiral wasn't like anything Marikka had felt before. It wasn't a tremor, not a warning—it was a summon. As if the very foundations of the Athenaeum were responding to an ancient command, cracked open by a word that was never meant to be spoken.
Key.
That vibration still pulsed on the back of her hand, right where the glowing fragment had touched her. Marikka curled her fingers instinctively. The book throbbed faintly, as though trying to steady its own heartbeat.
Cedric, meanwhile, had no intention of steadying anything. "It's… it's coming UP, right?! That vibration— that's from below. From the bottom. The part with no stairs, no maps, no people, where nobody goes because NOBODY WANTS TO SEE WHAT'S DOWN THERE?!"
Aurelian placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Cedric. Stop talking."
"Oh yes, because SILENCE is clearly the solution when something is climbing up here to find us!"
The floor shook strongly enough to throw him off balance. A nearby column leaned by a few centimeters… then straightened, as if it reconsidered disrupting the precious symmetry of the hall. The Athenaeum disliked disorder.
Marikka felt another vibration—sharper, more decisive.
Hiding is useless.
Followed by:
You cannot avoid what recognizes you.
She swallowed hard.
Cedric looked at her as if bracing for disaster. "What's it saying? Should we run? Stay? Pretend we're not home?"
Aurelian's eyes were hard. "Marikka?"
"The book says…" she exhaled, "…that whatever is waking up is looking for me. For the Key."
Cedric sagged. "Perfect. Wonderful. Absolutely fantastic. This is officially the worst roll of dice in my entire life."
Another tremor. Stronger. Closer.
This time, something accompanied it—a faint, rustling sound, like a thousand pages being flipped too fast. A living sound. It scraped along the walls like a blind creature sniffing out something familiar.
Aurelian reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a small metal shard etched with runes. "I won't use a major Sigil until we know what we're facing. But be ready."
Cedric blinked rapidly. "Know what we're facing?! I'd LOVE to know what we're facing!"
The rustling grew louder. Then louder still. It became a rising tide climbing the central column of the corridor. Marikka sensed fragmented vibrations, disordered—whatever was coming did not have a stable form. It was searching for one.
"It's rewriting itself as it climbs…" she whispered.
Cedric's arms dropped. "Perfect. Didn't think today could get worse, but here we are."
When the creature finally appeared, it made no sound of arrival.
It was simply there.
A mass of pages, shredded bindings, ribbons of ink, and margins twisting around each other. Every part looked like it came from a different book, a collage of living materials that never intended to meet. A single eye—made of incomplete runes—opened at the center, and the room grew colder.
The creature emitted a guttural vibration.
Key.
Cedric nearly dislocated his neck turning toward Marikka. "NO. No-no-no-NO. Don't tell it you're the key. Don't tell it ANYTHING. Don't even BREATHE. Don't even VIBRATE."
But it was useless.
The creature wasn't looking at Cedric.It wasn't looking at Aurelian.It wasn't looking at the room.
It was looking at her.
Aurelian stepped forward, placing himself between them, but the book vibrated so sharply it nearly jolted out of her grip.
Not us.You.
The creature advanced. Every step made a heavy thud, like a tome dropped from a great height. Its pages snapped open and shut like hungry jaws.
Aurelian muttered, "It's a Threshold Custodian… but incomplete. It shouldn't be up here."
Cedric: "Incomplete? Incomplete like… missing a tooth? Incomplete like missing a chapter? Or incomplete like EXPLODES IF YOU LOOK AT IT WRONG?!"
Aurelian did not answer.
The creature stopped three steps from Marikka.The runic eye dilated.Its pages trembled.
And then, in a whisper made of ink and void:
"Ke… yyy…"
Marikka felt her heart skip.
Cedric clutched a scroll he didn't know how to use. "If I say we're not home, will it leave?!"
Aurelian elbowed him.
The creature convulsed. Pages tore loose, falling like black feathers and dissolving before they hit the floor. It was unstable—hurting.
Yet still, it approached.
Marikka didn't have time to think. She lowered the book to the floor and placed her hand on the ground. Vibrations shot up her arm like electric fire.
The Athenaeum responded.Not with a command.Not with an order.
With a question.
What do you desire?
Marikka whispered, "Keep it away."
The ground trembled. A spiral of stone rose like a serpent, coiling tightly around the creature. It thrashed violently. Some pages sharpened into thin razor-blades. One flew out and slashed Aurelian's shoulder, knocking him against a column.
Cedric screamed, "MASTER!!"
"I'm fine…" Aurelian hissed, though he did not look fine at all.
Marikka grabbed the book. The spiral wouldn't hold long. This thing wasn't a beast—it was a living memory, a fractured fragment, something trying to maintain a form it couldn't hold.
"Why are you looking for me?" she asked.
The creature shook violently.The runic eye constricted.Words formed and dissolved across its pages.
Where.You.Are.
Marikka shivered. "You know me?"
The pages fluttered—yes.
Cedric whispered, "Marikka… maybe DON'T continue this conversation?"
Too late. Another eye opened—this one made of margins.
And this vibration wasn't directed at Marikka.It was directed at something else.
Lower in the spiral.Something moving.Fast.
The book stiffened in her hands.A dry, sharp vibration.
Two words:
Not alone.
The floor shook harder.Older.Deeper.
Cedric backed up. "Tell me another thing is NOT coming up."
Aurelian limped to them. "Something is. Something bigger."
Marikka's blood went cold.
The book vibrated again, with a clarity that stunned her:
The true Second Fragment comes.
The lights flickered.The columns bent like reeds.The Athenaeum whispered something unintelligible, but everyone felt it.
The incomplete creature froze.Its pages splayed.Ink tendrils quivered.
It was no longer aggressive.
It was terrified.
Marikka understood instantly: whatever was coming next was predator to even this twisted thing.
The page-creature's final vibration was a desperate, broken whisper:
"Ru… nn…"
Run.
Then it dissolved like ash scattered by an invisible wind, leaving behind a single suspended vibration:
The true Fragment was arriving.
And this time, it wasn't a shell.It wasn't unstable.It wasn't half-asleep.
It was awake.It was whole.And it wanted her.